


Tranquility and Inspiration

by Freedom4Poetry



Series: Transformers Animated Slivers [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 15:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freedom4Poetry/pseuds/Freedom4Poetry
Summary: Bulkhead wants to paint. But he just can't get over his artistic block. How can he solve this problem?





	Tranquility and Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> This one is set in Season 1, after episode 13, Headmaster. I'd like to see this as a sort of sequel to my first one-shot in this series.
> 
> Italics means comm. link

"No." The television with Sari and Bumblebee in front of it was not a good art subject.

"No." Neither were Ratchet's tools.

How about that wing of Starscream's in Boss-bot's room? "No." Why did he even have that anyway?

Bulkhead was stumped, he wanted to paint something, but there wasn't anything interesting enough for him to draw. So he carried his paint-mop and canvas from room to room in their warehouse/secret base hoping for something to inspire him. So far, no luck.

He huffed. All he wanted to do was express his own sensitive side, and Sari telling him about art gave him that chance, but now he couldn't think what he could paint.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh! Prowl, heh, didn't see you there," he nudged at the cycle-bot, "guess that's just part of being a cyber-ninja."

"Of course." Prowl looked up, way up, considering the height difference between the two Autobots. "But you still haven't answered my question, is something wrong?"

Bulkhead sighed. "Yeah, I want to paint something, but there's nothing I like. I keep thinking, how can I use this to express myself, but there's nothing that gives me that feeling, you know."

"Hmmm." Prowl seemed pensive holding his digits to his dermas looking down to the floor. "I think," he turned to look back at Bulkhead, "I just might be able to help with that. Follow me."

Bulkhead grinned. "You do! Oh, that's great!"

And with that they both transformed, with Bulkhead placing his art equipment into the back of his vehicle mode. They both drove out of the warehouse and onto the road.

Optimus and Ratchet were stood outside, appreciating the last of the evening summer sun. They were deep in conversation, but the two 'bots leaving quickly caught their optics.

"Where do you think they're going Ratchet?"

"What do I look like, a processor-reader to you? If you're that bothered just comm. them and ask yourself."

"No, I think I'll leave them to it. It's good to see Prowl and Bulkhead spending time together, they've been getting along well since we took on those Dinobots." He turned and smiled at Ratchet. "They've been learning a lot from each other, so hopefully today they'll have even more progress."

Ratchet shook his helm and smiled. "You're a soft-sparked one, aren't you?"

He gave a cheeky grin. "I haven't had any complaints so far."

Prowl kept leading Bulkhead through Detroit, until the urban jungle gave way to thick woodland crowding the perimeter on the main road out of Detroit.

 _Hey, Prowl, how much further have we got to go?_ Prowl's comm. lit up at Bulkhead's message

 _Not far now_ , he pinged back, _in fact we should be turning off right here._

Prowl pulled off to the right, with Bulkhead following in quick succession. They kept driving though the forest on an old dirt track, with weeds clinging to its edge, and singular faded tire tracks suggesting that Prowl had been here before multiple times.

"Here, we've arrived."

"Wow!" Bulkhead, still in vehicle mode gawped at the scene in front of him. Lake Michigan stretched all the way to the horizon, with the setting sun reflecting in an orchestra of colour across its surface, pinks, reds and oranges. The trees stretched out in the distance, shadowed purple in the shade of the mountains from the warmth of the sun, whilst the mountain tops flickered between their own interpretation of blue purple and black, but buttery yellow along the sides where the sun's light could still reign.

"This is incredible!"

"I know, that's why I brought you here, I'd thought that you would appreciate Earth's beauty from an artistic point of view. Which reminds me, you should store this as a memory pic, the sun will set soon, and you won't have enough time to finish it, since the evening changes so quickly on this planet."

"Got it." Bulkhead set down his easel and canvas. "I can get started on the sketching of the view first, and then finish it back at the warehouse."

"Very well then," Prowl went and sat underneath one of the humongous trees tightly packed into the landscape, "I shall mediate while you sketch, an activity that requires silence, so I won't distract you."

Bulkhead glanced over from his work. "Hey, Prowl, do you come here often?"

"Yes, it is a good area for mediation, far from distractions and at peace with Earth's natural beauty."

"Oh," he looked down at his servos with a gentle smile, "so this is a special place for you, you know, private and stuff."

"In a sense, yes, but," he paused to return the same expression of emotion, "I don't mind sharing it with you."

"Thanks Prowl."

"You're welcome."

And there they sat, Prowl cross-legged and Bulkhead perched on his kibble as usual, two very different sparks, basking in the final glow of Detroit's sun, and the wondrous imagery it blessed these two aliens, far from their old home, but perfectly content with their new one, and the company they shared.


End file.
